


But I'm a Softball Player

by reallyqween_92



Category: Harley Quinn (Cartoon 2019), Harley Quinn (Comics), Poison Ivy (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, But I'm a Cheerleader, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Past Abuse, conversion camp, the miseducation of cameron post - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-19 08:33:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29871966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reallyqween_92/pseuds/reallyqween_92
Summary: A little bit of "But I'm A Cheerleader," a little bit of "The Miseducation of Cameron Post" and a whole lot of Harley/Ivy! Ivy and a few other familiar faces from the DCU find themselves sent off to conversion camp by misguided parents. Ivy is determined to do her time there and go home without incident and without getting too close to anyone. Besides, she isn't even gay! Then Harley arrives, turning her world upside down. Harley's rough and tumble exterior gives way to a heart of slightly crazy gold that Ivy just can't stay away from. They grow closer, despite Ivy's best efforts, and when Harley's ex makes a dangerous appearance, Ivy can't just stand by and watch Harley be hurt, can she?
Relationships: Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel
Comments: 7
Kudos: 28





	1. Plastic Chairs are Never Comfortable

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome and thank you for checking out my work! This is the first Harley/Ivy fic I've written. I started writing it when I finished the season finale of the new Harley Quinn cartoon. It started out just based on But I'm A Cheerleader, but that seemed a little too light hearted for how messed up Harley and Ivy's stories are in the DCU, so I added in a few more serious notes from Cameron Post. This is going to be a little shorter than my other fics have been and posting my be a little more sporadic as well. I will try and post at least once a week, twice if I have time. I hope everyone enjoys it!

Ivy sat uncomfortably in the pink plastic chair, waiting. It was day 3 of treatment at God’s Promise Rehab Camp, or, as most of her peers called it, day 3 of lying to yourself. They hadn’t done much aside from introductions and tours the first few days. It had been pretty boring, if Ivy was being honest. They were still waiting on one last person to really get started on fixing themselves. A late addition whose parents had refused to deliver her themselves was arriving that day. There were other groups already in session at the camp. Some groups were nearing the end of their shared treatment experiences, while some were just a few weeks ahead of Ivy’s. 

At least my folks had the decency to drop me off here, Ivy thought, watching a bus pull up outside the drab facility. A few of the other participants peered out the window at the new girl, whispering amongst themselves. Ivy didn’t budge. She wasn’t here to make friends, or enemies, only to appease her parents and then go home to her boyfriend, Chuck. She wasn’t sure what she expected, but when the door opened, she couldn’t keep herself from staring at the girl standing there next to the director, Ms. M. 

The girl was shorter than Ivy by a good 5 inches and wore light blue distressed denim overall shorts that barely covered her ass and definitely didn’t cover her thighs. Underneath her white crop top a neon pink sports bra was visible. The shirt itself had something dull red splattered near the neck and Ivy could have sworn it was blood, but whose? Her white-blonde hair looked like she had cut it herself, with choppy bangs and wisps sticking out in different directions. Her pigtails had been dipped in cotton candy colored dye at the ends, pink and blue respectively. Her red hightops were both unlaced with pieces of black duct tape wrapped around them to hold them together. 

What really caught Ivy’s eye was how unbelievably pale her skin was. She looked like an alabaster nightmare for any parent to deal with, Ivy thought. When she looked closer she noticed that her skin wasn’t as smooth as she had thought. It was littered with bruises and scrapes and what looked like poorly done stick and poke tattoos on her thighs and forearms. Had she been pushed out of the bus while it was still moving? Ivy’s eyes moved up her body to her face and she froze. The girl was staring right back at her with dark blue eyes that sparkled in a way that made Ivy’s heart beat faster in her chest. The girl gave her a lopsided smile, revealing surprisingly straight teeth, and winked. Ivy blushed and looked away. What the hell?! Is this a real person? Ivy thought. She looked straight out of a comic book.

She glanced around the room, hoping everyone else felt the same magnetic pull toward the girl that she had. They all watched her with guarded eyes, but no one seemed to react quite like Ivy had. That, or they had much more self control than she did. There was just something about this girl that screamed trouble in a way that drew Ivy in. She normally did her best to stay away from trouble, in fact, she normally did her best to stay away from most people, aside from her boyfriend and her best friend. This girl seemed like the polar opposite of closed off. She seemed like she could just crash right through anyone’s defenses without even noticing. It scared Ivy.

“Alright everyone, now that we have our final member for this session, why don’t we go around and do our introductions so we can show her what she has missed,” Ms. M. said, directing the girl to an empty chair across from Ivy. She flopped down, sitting with her legs wide open and her shoulders slouched. My mother would kill me and then herself if she saw me sit like that, Ivy thought ruefully. This girl is either spoiled or ignored. Ivy zoned out for most of the introductions, she had already heard them and filed them away in case she needed the information to bore someone with later. Instead, she watched the girl’s face. 

Her bright blue eyes were attentive to each individual who spoke, almost staring them down with her focus. She listened intently, or so it seemed. She never smiled at them, sometimes cocking her head to the side like she was confused, her pigtails flopping like a dog’s ears. Ivy scrutinized every detail of the girl’s messy clothes, finding her eyes going back to the blood splatter on her collar. Upon further inspection she did notice that the girl’s bottom lip was busted under a concealing layer of pink lip gloss. Guess it must be her blood, Ivy concluded.   
“Hello, I’m Joshua Cobblepot. My mother says that it’s my uncle’s fault that I’m gay cause he ruined my bar mitsvah. She says I’ll never really be a man now,” a skinny boy with a middle part was saying. Ivy had already figured out that the bar mitzvah ruining probably had nothing to do with why the kid was here, it was probably because at 17 his mother still dressed him. Next to him sat his roommate, a short kid with black hair.

“Hi, I’m Dick Grayson and, uh, I have an unhealthy obsession with Batman,” he mumbled, staring down at his shoes. Ivy could see socks with batman’s logo on them peeking out from under his blue jeans. That was definitely not within their uniform guidelines.

“Dude, ya know he totally fucks bats, right?” The girl spoke, and Ivy momentarily wasn’t sure if she really had. The voice was so different from what she had imagined. Her Gotham accent was thick, mixed with something of a Jersey accent. She sounded crass, but Ivy couldn’t ignore the few snickers that escaped her peers at the comment. Ms. M.’s face was as pink as the chair she sat in.

“He does not fuck bats! That’s just a stupid rumor, Batman is amazing!” Dick defended, his face going red too. The girl shrugged and crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair. A slightly cruel playful grin graced her pouty lips. The rest of the introductions passed by without incident or comment until they made it to Ivy. She rolled her eyes, but spoke anyway.

“I’m Ivy and my parents caught me playing truth or dare with a female friend, so they sent me here,” Ivy said curtly. It made her feel weird to have the intensity of the girl’s gaze focused on her, even for that brief moment. Frank and Nora introduced themselves and then it was the new girl’s turn. All eyes were on her, waiting to hear her story, or some version of it. The girl didn’t hesitate at all. 

“Hi guys, my name is Harleen Quinzel, but ya’ll can just call me Harley!” She said in her endearingly thick accent.

“Harley, the first step in the program is admitting you have a problem. Once you do that, you are allowed to move into your room and unpack your clothes that, if they meet the dress code, you may wear. Everyone else here already completed that step, so is there anything you would like to tell the group?” Ms. M. coaxed. Ivy noticed the grimace on Ms. M.’s face when she had thought about Harley’s usual clothing, and wondered what other outfits Harley had. Harley herself put a finger to her chin thoughtfully, something Ivy had only ever seen in cartoons. What a character, Ivy thought.

“I mean, I guess girls sure are pretty, so maybe I like ‘em?” Harley said with a shrug. “But ain’t nothing wrong with that. My boyfriend Jay even likes it when girls make out.” Ivy hadn’t missed at all how Harley had stared at her as she spoke. It gave her goosebumps that she tried to brush away with tense fingers, but the mention of Harley’s boyfriend left a sour taste in her mouth. Only asshole guys want to see their girlfriend kiss another girl, Ivy thought.

“Well, uh, thank you for sharing Harley. We will delve much deeper into this later in group therapy,” Ms. M. said. She stood up from her seat and motioned to the group. “You’re all dismissed until after lunch. I’m going to go over the rules and regulations with Harleen.” They all filed off to their own rooms, except for Barb and K.S. who headed for the rec room to exercise. Ivy spared one final glance at Harley before heading back to her room, avoiding as much human interaction as she could. It didn’t last. 

***

“Hey roomie!”

Ivy didn’t have to look up from her book to know who was standing in her doorway. Of course she is my roommate, of course, Ivy thought with a huff. She was hoping that she wouldn’t have any roommate at all, especially not one that definitely would have boundary issues. 

“Please keep your voice down, I’m trying to read,” Ivy said flatly, peeking over her book to gauge Harley’s reaction.

“Oops, sorry Red, didn’t mean to disturb ya book readin’ and whatnot,” Harley said, dropping a battered backpack onto the bed opposite of Ivy’s. Red? What the hell kind of nickname is that? We aren’t even friends! Is that all she brought with her? Ivy wondered, watching Harley poke around the room. She ran her fingers through a stray lock of her auburn hair.

“Y’know, it seems kind of odd to me that they’re puttin’ two girls in a room together who they’re tryin’ to keep from being gay. Seems like a set up to a bad lesbian porno or sumthin’,” Harley remarked. Ivy bit her tongue, if she didn’t respond or interact, maybe Harley would get the message that they weren’t friends and shut up. Harley squatted down to look at the small collection of books on their shared bookcase and Ivy had to avert her eyes. Christ, how are those shorts that short!? Ivy thought. After a thorough inspection of the small room, Harley returned to her bag and unzipped it with what looked like a safety pin.

“This place reminds me of oatmeal. It’s like being stuck in a big ‘ol pot of that sticky shit,” Harley said, pulling a few items of clothing out of her bag and putting them in the drawers of the plain pine dresser next to her bed.

“What?” Ivy couldn’t help but ask.

“Ya know, how oatmeal is all plain and grey and soggy. It’s got no sharpness to it, no edges. This place is all beige and soft like that. Aside from the weird pink and blue chairs we gotta sit in,” Harley explained. Ivy wanted to argue, but despite the oddness of her logic, Harley was right. Everything was painfully plain in their dorms, the prevailing color scheme being grey, beige or natural wood. The most exciting thing they got were the plaid blankets on their otherwise grey bedding. Still, Ivy felt the need to respond.

“Not all oatmeal is bland like this place. You can add in fruit and nuts and honey to make it better,” Ivy said. Harley turned to her, a big grin on her face.

“Yeah, that’s us. We’re the fruity nuts apparently. That’s why they stuck us in here in the first place, right?” Harley said with a giggle. Ivy blushed, grumbling as she raised her book to cover her face.

“Speak for yourself, I’m not gay,” Ivy asserted. Harley just shrugged.

“So Red, if you ain’t gay, then what really got you sent here?” Harley asked innocently.

“My parents being paranoid,” Ivy said curtly. Harley cocked her head, pigtails flopping with the exaggerated movement. It was cute, but Ivy wasn’t about to admit it.

“Care to elaborate?” Harley asked. Ivy was a little surprised Harley even knew a word that big. Her vocabulary up to there had seemed pretty limited to adding too many contractions into words that didn’t need them and forgetting the final letters of words that did need them. Ivy wasn’t sure what made her say anything, she hadn’t meant to, but she did.

“It was stupid, my best friend Selina and I were playing truth or dare at a sleepover and we kissed right as my stuck up mother came to check on us. I’m not even gay, I have a boyfriend!” Ivy said, unable to keep the frustration out of her voice. It had been a fun night that had ended abruptly with lots of yelling. 

“Hey, I gots a boyfriend too! His name is Jay and we’re in love!” Harley said enthusiastically. Ivy cringed. 

“So, why are you here then?” Ivy asked. Harley seemed like the boy crazy/just crazy type of girl that she usually avoided at school. 

“My folks didn’t want to deal with me, so they stuck me here,” Harley said. She blew a bubble with her gum and popped it. That explained the oddly sweet smell that had followed her into the room. “I don’t think they really care about the whole gay thing, they were just a’ running out of places to send me off to.” The way she said it so nonchalantly bothered Ivy, but she didn’t say anything. After a moment Harley returned to unpacking. The girl seemed like the human incarnation of a tornado and Ivy kept reading the same sentence in her book over and over again until she gave up. She looked over at the mess Harley had made, surprised by how much crap had come out of her backpack. 

“Is that a softball bat?” Ivy asked, glancing between the red and black pompoms and the diamond patterned black bat. 

“Yeah, well, I used ta play softball, and man was I good, but they tossed me off the team saying I was too violent and that it ain’t a contact sport,” Harley explained, brandishing the bat in a way that said she was definitely thrown off the team with good reason. “I swear, ya hit one asshole with a bat once and suddenly everyones scared of ya,” Harley added with an innocent grin. 

Jesus christ, this girl is insane! Ivy thought, wondering how she was here instead of juvie. 

“And the pompoms?” Ivy asked, hoping to change the subject.

“The uniform looked cute, but those girls ain’t very friendly to folks like me. I just thought it might be fun since I used ta do gymnastics a lot as a lil kid,” Harley said. Ivy couldn’t help picturing Harley in a cheerleading uniform and she immediately regretted it. What the fuck Ives? Get your shit together! You have a boyfriend and this girl is clearly trouble that you don’t need! Ivy yelled at herself internally. She wasn’t gay, she had Chuck and Harley wasn’t even friend material, despite how friendly she seemed. In fact, now that Ivy thought about it. Harley seemed very friendly and genuine, which didn’t match her rough and tumble appearance at all. Odd. Ivy didn’t have too long to dwell on it, though. They were called a moment later to do small group meetings. The groups shuffled every week and Harley was not in Ivy’s group this week. After group meetings were chores, dinner and quiet time before the mandated 9pm bedtime.

Ivy was walking down the hall that evening, making her way to her room from the bathrooms, when she walked past Mrs. M’s office and heard Harley’s unmistakable voice. She knew she should keep walking, but the door was cracked just enough that she could hear the conversation and it piqued her interest.

“Look Miss Quinzel, the only reason you’re here and not in juvie is because they know you had accomplices. There is no way you could have pulled that robbery off on your own, but you’re the only one who got caught. If you don’t cooperate with the authorities on this, or at least with us, you may very well end up in juvie again. Do you understand what you’re risking? Your entire future is on the line. You could lose your chance to get into college because of this. Is it really worth it to protect the people that used you as their scapegoat?” Mrs. M. said a little harshley.

“With all due respect and shit, I don’t think I got much of a future anyway. College is expensive and they ain’t just given’ away scholarships to people with my kinda record,” Harley said.

“Miss Quinzel, I’ve seen your records and your grades are...interesting, to say the least. Just consider it. You’ll be here for 16 weeks as it is before they consider transferring you to juvie,” Mrs. M. said. “This is your chance at redemption. What would your parents think?” Mrs. M. tried. Out in the hallway, Ivy rolled her eyes. Classic parental guilt manipulation, fucking love that, Ivy thought, remembering her first session with Mrs. M.

“Frankly, I don’t give a fuck what those assholes think. They either ain’t thinkin of me at all, which I prefer, or they’re thinking bout how much they wish I wasn’t born. Either way, why should it matter to me?” Harley said plainly. Ivy was a little surprised by how blunt Harley was being. Could her parents really be that heartless to her? It seemed like her assessment of parental neglect was much more accurate than the possibility that Harley had been spoiled.

“I’m sure that’s not true Harleen, they sent you here didn’t they?” Mrs. M. asked.

“I believe that technically the courts sent me here. My folks didn’t even come ta the sentencing,” Harley replied. Ivy heard Mrs. M. sigh deeply.

“Look, just think about it. It would be a good step in your recovery to be honest about all of this,” Mrs. M. said tiredly.

“I ain’t no narc ma’am,” Harley replied sweetly. Ivy heard the scraping of plastic chair legs against the hardwood floor and hurried along on her way, a thousand new questions bubbling up in her throat. Too bad there is no internet in this hole, Ivy thought. If there was she would have already looked up Harley and what sounded like her illustrious criminal record. She was tucked into her bed reading her book when Harley came back into the room. Her hair was wet from the shower and Ivy could smell the fruity shampoo she had used. It’s somehow fitting that even her shampoo smells sweet, Ivy thought, watching Harley. She was wearing an oversized black t-shirt with a logo so faded it wasn’t readable, and when she bent over Ivy noticed with a little alarm that she was only wearing some black boyshorts and no pants. 

“Don’t you have any actual pajamas?” Ivy asked, trying and failing to not sound snippy. Harley turned and looked at Ivy for a moment before cracking a grin.

“Sorry, I didn’t really get ta pack much. You’re lucky I’m not sleepin’ like I usually do.” Harley winked at Ivy and she could only imagine that meant even less clothing. Harley peeled back the sheets on the bed and laid down. “Wow, these beds sure are comfy,” Harley said, sounding genuinely impressed.

“Maybe if you’re used to sleeping on the floor or something,” Ivy grumbled, missing her big king sized bed from home. Harley didn’t reply, which only made Ivy more curious about the girl. Maybe she was used to sleeping on the floor? She finished the chapter in her book and turned off the lamp, snuggling down into the grey sheets. She was just beginning to doze off when she was brought back to consciousness by Harley’s voice.

“Hey Red,” Harley asked.

“What Harley?” Ivy snapped, mentally rolling her eyes. What the heck does she want? Can’t she just go to sleep and leave me alone?

“What the fuck is that noise?” Harley asked. Ivy could see how wide her eyes were even in the darkness. She was quiet for a moment, listening for whatever sound Harley was talking about. All she heard were the late summer cicadas outside their window.

“Do you mean the cicadas?” Ivy asked, raising an eyebrow that Harley couldn’t see.

“Cicadas? Are those some type a bug er sumthin?” Harley asked. 

“Uh, yeah. How have you never heard them before? They’re loud as hell all summer in the gardens around my house. They’re really only alive to scream and have sex. Then they die and their larva stay underground for years,” Ivy explained.

“Woah, now that’s the ideal life, ain’t it?” Harley said.

“Uh…” Ivy wasn’t sure which part of her explanation Harley was referring to and she wasn’t sure she wanted to ask.

“I guess they don’t really live in the city and I don’t see much in the way of plants where I live,” Harley said. A pang of guilt hit Ivy in the stomach and she remembered just how different their lives really must be. She had lavish gardens all around her mansion, Harley didn’t even have a yard, apparently, and it seemed unlikely she had a real bed either.

“Well, now you know what they are, so go to sleep,” Ivy said, rolling over to face her wall. 

“You’re so smart, ya know? I never woulda known that. Goodnight Ivy,” Harley said happily.

***

A few hours later Ivy was awoken by a soft whimpering coming from the bed next to her. She had been trapped in a dream that she wasn’t really enjoying, something about her boyfriend and her fooling around, but she wasn’t into it at all. The noise in the room had bled into her dream, so she woke up confused. Slowly coming out of her dream fog, she realized that Harley was actually whimpering like some wounded animal. She had been so sure that Harley was the kind of person who sprawled out across the bed and snored like no one else was around. Instead, when she glanced over, she found Harley curled up into a tight ball with the blanket pulled almost over her head. A pained expression twisted her soft features and in turn, twisted something in Ivy’s stomach. 

Must be a nightmare, this place seems to spawn those, Ivy thought. She waited a few more minutes, watching Harley’s face for any sign of calm, hoping her nightmares would leave her be. Five minutes passed and nothing had changed. Ivy groaned internally.

“Harley!” Ivy whispered aggressively, but got no response. Ivy tried to roll over, pulling the blanket up over her head to try and drown out Harley’s noise, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t stop seeing that expression on her face. It was fear or pain or maybe both and Ivy really didn’t like seeing it. Harley had been so smiley all day, despite the situation, that it was unnerving to see her expression so raw. Everyone there had a painful history that kept their smiles fake, but Harley’s had been so genuine that it was somehow worse now to see it so twisted. A few more minutes and Ivy couldn’t take it anymore. She tossed off her blankets as dramatically as she could and tiptoed over to the side of Harley’s bed. 

In the little bit of light coming in the window Harley looked almost ethereal. Her exposed skin was so white it almost looked blue and her blonde hair was splayed out across the grey pillow like a halo. Ivy noticed that the very tip of her nose was slightly upturned, just enough to be cute. One of her arms had ended up on top of the blankets and Ivy noted the scars that glowed slick silver and cigarette burns that looked like they had healed years ago. Her knuckles were bruised and scraped, but her nails were surprisingly clean. Another whimper from Harley brought Ivy back to the moment and she gently grabbed Harley’s bony shoulders and shook her.

“Herley! Wake up, it’s just a bad dream!” Ivy whispered loudly. 

Harley’s blue eyes popped open, glistening in the moonlight with unshed tears. For a moment they were wide and filled with a terror that made Ivy freeze. Nevertheless, when they did focus on Ivy a broad grin spread across her plump lips.

“Ivy?” Harley asked, still grinning. Ivy took a breath and stood up.  
“You were being loud, it woke me up,” Ivy said curtly. She watched a blush seep into Harley’s round cheeks and she wondered if the girl was actually embarrassed. 

“Oh, I’m sorry Red. I guess I was having a bad dream or something. I’ll try to be quieter,” Harley promised, still smiling up at Ivy.

“Whatever,” Ivy said, stalking back over to her own bed and crawling in.

“Thanks for waking me up, I don’t think it was a good dream,” Harley said quietly.

“Next time I’m just going to smother you with your dumb pillow, got it?” Ivy replied, rolling over. She listened for a while to Harley’s breathing until it evened out. Once she was sure Harley was asleep again, she rolled back over. This was supposed to be easy. She was supposed to come here, keep her head down, and then leave. Harley was going to make that a lot harder than she had thought it would be.


	2. Icebergs are Better as Lettuce Anyway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harley starts to settle in and Ivy can't help her curiosity. She slowly learns new things about her roommate; some that she likes and others that she doesn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2! Hope everyone enjoys this one!

The next morning Harley actually looked worse, Ivy thought, standing silently next to her in front of the row of sinks and mirrors in the girl’s bathroom. She had practically had to drag Harley out of bed when their wake up call had gone off at 7am to avoid missing breakfast. She had led her to the bathroom, stuck a toothbrush in her hand and set her in front of the sink. Now, Harley was mechanically brushing her teeth and washing her face, eyes red-rimmed and barely focused. Ivy observed her while getting herself ready for the day. 

The bruises that had been barely visible yesterday had darkened against her pale skin into various shades of black and purple. Ivy shuddered, tracing each bruise with her eyes. There were random bruises on her arms and legs, but the ones on her neck and wrists made Ivy’s blood go cold. They looked like fingerprints against her windpipe and hands squeezing her wrists. When Harley brushed her bangs to the side to wash her face, Ivy saw another shiner coming through at her temple. In a deep, dark, hidden place inside of her, Ivy recognized these bruises from the few times her father had hit her. She had made herself very scarce after that, giving him no chance to continue. There were plenty of places to hide in their massive mansion, and if she kept her grades up and her head down, she was ignored. Harley didn’t seem so lucky.

Ivy was thankful that Barb always got up at the crack of dawn to exercise and Nora was probably even less awake than Harley looked. Ivy had brought her clothes to the bathroom and changed quickly. She wore a band shirt, skinny jeans and her favorite leather jacket that had been a gift from Selina during their freshman year of high school. 

“Oh shit, I forgot my clothes,” Harley said, staring at Ivy for just long enough to make her squirm. 

“That’s fine, you can change in the room. I’ll just head downstairs before you,” Ivy replied. They walked back to their room together and before Ivy left, she tossed a hoodie at Harley, who picked it up and raised an eyebrow at Ivy. It was a plain black hoodie that Ivy had only worn once or twice before.

“It gets cold in the dining hall and you said you didn’t pack much,” Ivy said. What she didn’t say was that everyone would notice all the bruises and pry much more than anyone needed on their first full day there. 

“Thanks Red, you’re a peach!” Harley replied happily, smiling like nothing was wrong.

Ivy sat alone at breakfast. She had avoided the oatmeal, remembering Harley’s comment from the previous night, and opted for cold cereal. It was the best vegetarian option they had in the mornings, even if it was all the weird off-brand stuff. She took another bite of her soggy not-cornflakes and glanced around the room. Nora, who always dressed herself a little bit like a doll, was sitting too close to KS, running her hand along his muscled forearm any chance she got. KS was enthusiastically talking about something, probably fishing related, as that was his passion in life. Ivy couldn’t understand why or how that could be anyone’s ‘passion’ in anything, but it’s what he liked. Josh and Clayton sat at another table arguing over some nerd game while Ridley and Frank threw not-frootloops at each other. There were a few other kids in the dining room from other groups, but she hadn’t bothered to learn any of their names. Ivy looked back at her cereal for a second before she heard a commotion.

This time when she looked up, almost everyone was out of their seats. They had all gravitated to a single table, which was where Ivy’s eyes landed now. Harley had sat down at an empty table and immediately been surrounded by curious kids, asking her all types of questions. The hoodie Ivy had given her was too big on her, the sleeves covering everything but her fingertips. Ivy noticed that her tiny shorts had been replaced by a pair of ripped up black leggings with red diamonds at the ankles and she was a little glad for it. 

Ivy heard snippets of the conversation, mostly hearing answers that she already knew from her conversations with Harley the night before. She did learn that Harley had just recently turned 16 and her breakfast food of choice was pancakes. Ivy watched unable to tear her eyes away as Harley drowned her pancakes in maple syrup. Just the idea of eating that much sugar before 9am made her stomach turn. Harley didn’t seem to mind it one bit, shoveling the pancakes into her mouth and fielding questions as she did.

God, she looks like a child. Talking with her mouth full, eating that much sugar...and the oversized hoodie and pigtails sure don’t help it, Ivy thought. Immaturity was something Ivy couldn’t stand. It irked her in an inexcusable way, but somehow when Harley’s eye caught hers and she grinned at her, Ivy didn’t feel irked at all, just warm. The more she watched the more she noticed that Harley seemed to have that effect on most people. Her smile was contagious and she shared it readily with everyone around her.

It was a weekday, so the first half of the day was taken up by school classes. Since they were a small group all between 15 and 17 they shared a room for this and each had a workbook that would have been right for their grades about 10 years ago. Every other day they would have some sort of lecture on science, math or history. How this passed as education, Ivy couldn’t imagine. Her private school had all new books and a very strict college prep curriculum. Halfway through their morning Ivy had finished her workbook section for the week, wishing she had brought her book with her to read to pass the time. 

“Mr. M!” Harley’s voice broke the silence of the room, her hand stuck up in the air. Ivy heard Nora giggle.

“She’s already having trouble with this easy shit? Are her brains total mush?” Nora whispered to the girl sitting next to her. Ivy wanted to defend her roommate. Her education was probably a little lacking if her only option was public schools in the seedy heart of Gotham. She felt bad for Harley’s disadvantage. Her attendance couldn’t have been great either.

“Yes Harley, do you need help with something?” Mr. M. asked, walking over to Harley’s desk. Mr. M. was Ms. M.’s son who had clearly been her first experiment in un-gayification. He helped run the recreation and education parts of the camp, while Ms. M. did the really fun stuff, like therapy and yelling. He claimed he was a proud ex-gay, but his well-groomed mustache and flourished hand gestures said differently. His passion in life must be denial and suppression, which is at least more interesting than fishing, Ivy thought.

“Yeah, I’m finished. I was just wonderin’ if ya had anything else for me ta do,” Harley said, handing him her workbook.

“Wow, you already finished sections 3-7? I guess you could do a few sections ahead if you want to,” Mr. M. said with a shrug.

“No sir, I finished the whole workbook,” Harley said. Ivy’s mouth fell open and she heard a few similar reactions around the room.

“You finished...the whole thing??” Mr. M. said, immediately opening up her workbook to look through it.

“Yeah, it was pretty easy, so I guess I just blew through it,” Harley replied, chewing the eraser on her pencil.

“But this was for the whole semester. Did you just randomly guess everything or…?” Mr. M. asked. Harley shook her head, pigtails bouncing.

“Course not, guessin’ ain’t learnin’, that’s what my favorite teacher used to say,” Harley said. Mr. M. sighed.

“Maybe we need to give you something a little more challenging than this,” Mr. M. said, grabbing a 12th grade workbook off the shelf and handing it to Harley. “I am going to check over your work though, but get started on that and pace yourself Miss Quinn.”

“Okie dokie, thank ya teach,” Harley said, happily opening up the workbook and getting to work. Ivy watched Mr. M. shake his head and sit back down at his desk to start grading Harley’s work. At lunchtime Ivy hung back, curious to see the results of Mr. M.’s furious grading. Harley stood in front of his desk, rocking from her heels to the balls of her feet in the same duct taped high tops as before. She was still wearing Ivy’s sweatshirt, but she had rolled the sleeves up enough that Ivy could see the bruises on her wrists.

“Well, I don’t know how you did it, but you got all but 2 questions right. Are you sure you’re in the 10th grade?” Mr. M. asked.

“I was, but it’s been a while since I went to school. It just got so boring, ya know? That, and I had ta work. But I did spend a lot of time at the library, and not just sleepin!” Harley said with a wink.

“You haven’t been to school recently? What about truancy officers? Your parents?” Mr. M. asked. He clearly was out of his depth with this. Most of the kids who came through here were on their first outburst of sorts and their parents were just hoping to nip some bad behavior in the bud before it got worse. Harley was what happened when it got worse. For years. 

“My teacher didn’t complain, so long as I did the work. And Juvie didn’t care either. Education ain’t important ta my folks, neither of them finished high school. I’m a lost cause, accordion’ to them,” Harley said matter-of-factly.

Is she proud of that? How many people have called her that? Ivy wondered, standing outside the door.

“Well, here at God’s Promise, we don’t believe in lost causes. I’ll see what I can rustle up for you to work on. If you stay this motivated, you’ll be done with high school by the time you’re done here,” Mr. M. said.

“Thanks teach, I appreciate it. Seeya later!” Harley said with a wave, heading out the door. 

“Oh, hi,” Ivy said when Harley almost walked into her. Harley gave her a skeptical look.

“What’cha doing standin’ out here Red? Trying to eavesdrop?” Harley asked playfully. Ivy’s cheeks warmed slightly at the gentle accusation.

“No, of course not! I just thought I left something in the classroom,” Ivy said, looking away from Harley.

“Yeah, like your good excuses?” Harley teased. Ivy rolled her eyes.

“Whatever, come on, it’s lunch time. Avoid the goulash,” Ivy said. Harley scrunched up her cute little nose.

“Is that some kinda food? ‘Cause it sure sounds like shoes to me,” Harley said, following Ivy down the hall.

“You’re thinking galoshes,” Ivy said with a chuckle.

“Either way, I trust ya on the food Red,” Harley said. “Oh yeah, and thanks again for the hoodie, I promise I’ll give it back to ya soon!” Ivy shook her head.

“Don’t bother, I’ve got plenty of hoodies to spare. Keep it,” Ivy said.

“Really? You mean it?” Harley asked, her eyes wide. You’d think I was giving her a kidney or something, Ivy thought.

“Yeah, sure,” Ivy said.

“Sweet, thank you! I’ll find something I can give ya in return,” Harley promised. Ivy was going to protest, but they arrived in the cafeteria. Both girls avoided the goulash and sat down together. A few other kids glanced at them, but left Harley alone for the moment. Ivy saw Nora give Harley an especially dirty look that Harley didn’t seem to notice as she shoved too many chicken tenders into her mouth. 

“Good grief, you eat like you never learned what utensils were,” Ivy remarked with a grimace. She carefully cut her salad with a fork and knife like she had been taught to as soon as she could grasp them. Table manners were very important to her mother. Harley shrugged, ketchup staining her mouth.

“Utensils are for rich people,” Harley replied and Ivy said nothing. She knew Harley wasn’t trying to call her out, Harley didn’t even know she was rich as hell, but it still felt personal. It still was a little stab to Ivy’s pride and her heart. Harley didn’t know though, so she would try to let the unintentional dig go.

“You might want to keep an eye out for Nora, she...has issues,” Ivy said, nibbling on her salad. Harley glanced over in Nora’s direction and shrugged.

“I can take her,” Harley said nonchalantly, going back to her food.

“Uh, please don’t?” Ivy said, a little alarmed. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t even use my bat, promise,” Harley said with a grin that suddenly didn’t feel as innocent as it had a moment ago.

“They kicked you off the softball team for a good reason, didn’t they,” Ivy said.

“Hey, that bitch called me an uncultured cunt, she had it comin’,” Harley replied.

“Christ, you’ve got to watch your mouth,” Ivy said. “Ms. M. hears that you’ll be scrubbing the girl’s bathroom with your own toothbrush.”

“Gross,” Harley said. “Ms. M. ain’t even in here to hear me.”

“True, but you know one of these kids is bound to be a narc,” Ivy said. Harley seemed to contemplate that for a second.

“Okay, fair point, you got me there Red,” Harley said. Ivy was a little surprised Harley had just agreed with her like that, not that she was complaining. The rest of the day went by like usual. Their therapy of choice that afternoon just so happened to be art therapy in which they had to draw an iceberg and write all the things that contributed to them being dysfunctional sinners in the area under the water. Ivy was struggling. 

“Hmmm, I see there isn’t much in your iceberg right now,” Ms. M. remarked, making her way around the room. “Remember, you’re here to get better and this is the first step. It’s important to trace back all the experiences that corrupted your mind or body so that you can heal.” Ivy struggled not to roll her eyes as hard as she possibly could.

“I’m not gay though, so it seems stupid to try and find reasons that could have made me gay. I have a boyfriend,” Ivy said. Sure, girls were pretty and much more attractive than boys were, but everyone knew that, right? Ms. M. shook her head disappointedly.

“Denial will not help you find your true directions here at God’s Promise Miss Isley. Maybe you need to contemplate a little harder on why you’re really here in the first place,” Ms. M. said, heading over to look at Clayton’s iceberg. Ivy watched, noticing that half of his iceberg just said ‘theater kid’ in big letters. Makes sense, Clayton is always so dramatic, Ivy thought. Her eyes slid around the room until they settled once again on Harley.

Harley looked like she was concentrating, as she scribbled away with various colored sharpies. She had just the tip of her tongue peeking out of the corner of her lips as she worked, wisps of colored blonde hair straying into her eyes every now and then. She absently brushed them away and as she did Ivy saw her wince when she brushed too close to the bruise at her temple. Ivy winced too. That had to hurt. It had to throb and ache constantly. Ivy would have been irate at literally everyone and everything if she had something like that. How was Harley acting so...like herself? That little thought she hated told her again that it was because Harley was used to it.

“Miss Quinn, while I appreciate your enthusiasm in this project, that doesn’t look like an iceberg to me,” Ms. M. said when she got to Harley’s desk. Harley grinned up at her with that lopsided honest smile that Ivy was beginning to realize might mean trouble for her specifically.

“Well, I don’t know if you remember, but an iceberg sank the titanic and a whole lotta folks died and shit, so that seems like some major negative vibes to me. Instead, I drew a tree! The roots are all the living parts that’cha don’t see, even though they’re big and important. Without the roots, ya wouldn’t have the tree above ground!” Harley explained, pointing to her drawing.

“While I see your point, I think you may have missed the point of the assignment. Roots grow beautiful trees, and yours looks lovely. But we are trying to figure out what is potentially sinking your ship,” Ms. M. explained. Harley raised an almost invisible eyebrow.

“Now that just sounds like ya trying to shame us for the things that made us who we are. That don’t sound like positive therapy to me,” Harley said. By this point all eyes were on Harley and everyone’s icebergs long forgotten on their desks. No one else had really thought about it, already used to being made to feel ashamed of who they were. They had all just gone along with it in hopes that it would be over sooner. Harley clearly hadn’t and now, here she was, arguing with the woman who loved to weaponize their darkest insecurities. That dumbass is going to get burned! Ivy thought. 

Ivy looked down at her almost empty iceberg and angrily scribbled “spineless” into the blank area. Why hadn’t she thought to do something different? Why was she always trying to be the perfect daughter, even here? What was the point? When she glanced back up Harley and Ms. M. were gone and everyone was whispering amongst themselves. Ivy didn’t see Harley again until quiet time that evening. When she entered their shared room Harley was sitting on her bed in a white tank top and red shorts.

“Hey Red, how was the rest of art class?” Harley asked.

“Don’t you mean art therapy?” Ivy asked, dropping her bag on the floor next to her perfectly made bed and sitting down.

“I certainly do not, that ain’t any kind of therapy and I’m pretty sure Ms. M. ain’t any kind of real therapist either. Just sitting around doing normal art would be better therapy than teachin’ us to hate ourselves and be ashamed of what made us who we are. That shit ain’t healthy for nobody,” Harley asserted. Her eyes still sparkled, but right now it was with anger.

“I’m not arguing with you there, it’s stupid at the very least,” Ivy said. She wanted to ask where Harley had been, but that felt personal and Ivy had to remind herself that she wasn’t here to make friends.

“I bet this place has done some real damage to kids’ self-esteem, especially when we’re all just minors. This is fucked up, but at least the food is better than juvie. And ain’t nobody trying to jump me in the bathrooms!” Harley said. Ivy shook her head.

“You’re so weird. I just don’t get you,” Ivey said. Harley cocked her head to the side.

“Get me?” Harley asked.

“Yeah, you know, what’s your deal?” Ivy asked. Harley shrugged.

“Beats me, I’m jus tryin’ to exist, ya know?” Harley said, flopping down on the bed.

“Just trying to exist, huh?” Ivy echoed, laying back on her own bed. Weren’t they all just trying to exist there? Ivy thought.

“What about you Red? What’s your deal?” Harley asked. Ivy glanced over to see Harley laying on her side facing Ivy’s bed. Ivy rolled over to face her, propping her head up on her arm. 

“You tell me,” Ivy replied, trying not to smile. I dare you to figure me out, Ivy thought.

“Hmmm, alright Red, I get the feeling you’re here only because your parents sent you here and you tend to do what they insist on, at least when they’re looking,” Harley said. Ivy rolled her eyes.

“Almost all of us are here because our parents forced us to come here, that’s an easy read,” Ivy said.

“Okay, fine, but you ain’t gonna like the real read,” Harley said.

“Hit me with your best shot,” Ivy challenged. No one knew her here. And, honestly, no one really knew her back home either, other than Salina and Chuck.

“You grew up rich, but mostly ignored. I noticed how nice and clean lookin’ yer nails are. High standards from parents ya wanted to avoid. That’s why ya make yer bed so nicely and sit like there’s a rod in yer spine. Usually a maid woulda done it for ya, but ya like to do things yourself if ya can. Being so self-reliant comes at a cost though, makin’ friends ain’t easy for ya and ya like plants more than folks anyway. Plants are predictable, people ain’t. Oh, and you’re in denial about why you’re here,” Harley added with a nod. Ivy stared at her. How the hell had she figured out so much about her in just 24 hours and a few conversations? Ivy hadn’t said anything about her family or past at all. She never did. She hadn’t even mentioned her love for plants and gardening.

“How did you…” Ivy started to ask. Harley shrugged.

“I pay attention. The more ya know about the folks you’re around, the more likely you can avoid gettin’ hurt. That, and half the books on yer shelf are about horticulture and you wear a lotta green,” Harley said. Ivy just shook her head. “The green looks good though, really compliments yer eyes and that bright hair of yours,” Harley added with a grin.

“Well fuck, not gonna lie, I’m shocked you figured out that much,” Ivy said. “You’re a lot smarter than you seem Harley,” Ivy said. She thought back to class earlier that day. “In fact, I get the feeling you’re a lot smarter than most people think you are.”

“Just cause I look a little rough on the outside don’t mean I’m like that on the inside,” Harley said. “People like to stereotype, makes ‘em more comfortable if they can put ya in a box based on how ya look.”

“Speaking of looking a little rough on the outside, who did that to you?” Ivy asked, pointing at the bruising at Harley’s temple and around her eye. She hadn’t meant to ask. If asking Harley about her day was too personal, then asking her about her trauma definitely was crossing a line, but she felt like Harley already knew more about her than she wanted. She wanted to know about Harley in exchange. The girl shrugged again.

“I don’t remember, coulda been my pops or Jay, maybe even the cops who dragged me here. It don’t really matter. I’m not so great at shutting up, so people just hit me sometimes. Jay always apologizes though. Once he even brought me flowers,” Harley said with a dreamy smile. Ivy felt nauseous.

“That’s really manipulative and abusive,” Ivy said before she could stop herself. Not to mention the obvious child abuse and abuse from police officers, Ivy thought. She expected Harley to get mad at her, maybe even yell at her, but it never came. Instead, Harley sighed.

“Yeah, I know, but what else have I got?” Harley asked honestly. Ivy didn’t really have an answer. It didn’t seem like she had much of anything. “In my neighborhood you gotta belong to somebody, or you ain’t got any protection. And sure, whoever is protectin’ ya might rough ya up sometimes, but not as bad as the guys they’re protectin’ ya from would,” Harley explained.

“Well, you look like somebody beat the hell out of you, so who was supposed to be protecting you then?” Ivy asked uncomfortably.

“I guess nobody,” Harley said, her smile slipping for a second. She reached up and brushed her fingers across the darkening bruises on her windpipe. “Jay was supposed to be there, he promised.”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked,” Ivy said. It was like a switch had turned and Harley’s hand dropped from her neck, the same big smile gracing her features again.

“It’s okay Red, I’m sure Jay’ll make up for it when he comes to get me. He said if I took the fall he would come an’ rescue me from anything,” Harley gushed. “Besides, if he got caught he would go to prison, I just get sent to juvie or places like this one.”

“Wait, is he an adult?” Ivy asked, a whole new wave of concern washing over her. Harley nodded.

“Yep, Jay’ll be 22 next month,” Harley said.

“And you’re...16??” Ivy asked.

“Bingo, right again Red. You pay attention too, don’tcha?” Harley asked. 

“Harley, he is 6 years older than you, that’s gross and illegal. You realize he was driving when you were 10 years old, right?” Ivy asked.

“Yeah, cause I knew him then. Jay was my first crush. I used to run errands for him and his buddies when I was a kid,” Harley said thoughtfully. “Though, looking back I realize he was probably jus tryin’ to get me outta his hair.”

“How are you so smart and so stupid all at once?” Ivy said, mostly to herself. Harley didn’t seem to hear her.

“I wish I still had my phone so I could show you some pictures of him!” Harley was saying. Ivy, for once, was thankful no one had their phones. She didn’t like the idea of having a face to go with the guy who was using and obviously abusing her roommate. 

“I’m...gonna hit the showers. Nora and her crew should be gone by now. You should shower soon too,” Ivy said, standing up. She needed to wash this new information out of her brain if she could. 

“I’ll come with ya then!” Harley said happily, hopping off her messy bed. Oh god, if I tell her no she’ll totally think I’m gay, but if I don’t tell her no...then I’ll have to see her naked! There is no way I’ll sleep tonight if I see that! Ivy thought, trying not to panic. In the end, she couldn’t exactly tell Harley to beat it, so they walked to the showers in silence.

“I still think it’s hella weird that they just let all us girls share the showers like this if they’re tryin’ to make us not gay,” Harley said. Ivy couldn’t argue. Sure, there were separate shower stalls with curtains across them, but otherwise it was a free for all just like a locker room. Ivy quickly stepped behind the curtain of her stall to undress, but not before she caught a glimpse of Harley’s tautt stomach muscles as she slipped her shirt over her head. Ivy was surprised by the amount of muscle on Harley’s petite body. I guess she did say she played a lot of sports, Ivy thought.

“Harley, are you humming?” Ivy asked after a moment.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, well, I like ta sing in the shower, but that seems a little rude when there’s company,” Harley said, turning on the water. Ivy listened to the sound of the water hitting the cold tile floor, drowning out Harley’s humming. Her mind kept drifting back to Harley’s toned stomach and defined collarbones, and she had to resist the urge to spend extra time scrubbing her...nether regions. 

“I miss Chuck,” Ivy said, hoping that was the real reason for the ache between her legs.

“Chuck?” Harley asked.

“My boyfriend,”Ivy replied.

“Right. What’s Chuck like? Does he treat ya right?” Harley asked.

“He really likes things that fly, like airplanes and helicopters and stuff. His father owns a private jet line, so I think that’s why he is so into it. And he treats me well. He can be a bit of a moron sometimes, but that’s endearing, right?” Ivy said. 

“I guess so. As long as he’s nice to ya and thinks about yer feelins’ and stuff, that’s what really matters,” Harley said. Ivy thought about that. Chuck was nice to her, he really was, but did he think about her feelings? Their dates were usually to things he liked, even though she had been dropping hints about the arboretum for months. He just didn’t seem to pick up on stuff like that if she didn’t flat out tell him and sometimes even then they still did what he wanted to do. Ivy was thinking about this when she heard the door to the bathroom open. She strained to hear anything suspicious happening, but all she heard was the door close again a moment later. Ivy breathed a sigh of relief and turned off her water.

“Uh, Red?” Harley said.

“Hang on a sec, let me just-” Ivy reached for her towel, but her hand just hit the tile wall instead. Oh fuck, those fucking assholes! Ivy thought, checking to see if her towel had fallen to the floor. It was nowhere to be found and she assumed Harley was in the same position.

“Ya wouldn’t happen to have an extra towel, would ya?” Harley asked.

“Fucking-I would bet money that it was Nora and her minions who snatched our towels,” Ivy growled.

“My clothes took a walk too,” Harley said. Ivy quickly checked for her own clothes, glad to find that they were still there at least. She struggled into her sweatpants and sports bra that she had brought with her and pulled her curtain back. 

“Oh my god,” Ivy said, covering her eyes just as a completely naked Harley turned to face her. Ivy kept her eyes glued to the white tile floor and held out her shirt to Harley. “Please put this on.” Ivy had seen more of Harley than she wanted to admit, even if she had a cute butt, it was now burned into Ivy’s memory. Harley took the shirt and slipped it on. It stuck to her damp body in places that Ivy was trying hard not to think about.

“Wow Red, now your face matches your hair!” Harley said. Ivy finally looked up, glad that her shirt fell at least mid-thigh on Harley.

“Shut up,” Ivy grumbled.

“Nothin’ to be embarrassed of, ya know. The naked body is a completely natural thing that we all got,” Harley said. “Cept ghosts, they ain’t got no body.”

“Must be lonely since they ain’t got nobody,” Ivy replied. Harley stared at her for a second before bursting into a fit of giggles. Ivy herself couldn’t help but laugh along.

“Well shit Red, I didn’t think you’d be one for the puns,” Harley said.

“I swear I’m not, it was just a crime of opportunity. Now, let’s go. I don’t know about you, but I want to be in bed in dry pajamas already,” Ivy said. Back in their room, they stood back to back as they both stripped, dried off and changed into their pajamas. Again, somehow, Ivy caught a glimpse of Harley’s back and this time she got a much clearer view of the defined muscles and half a dozen silvery scars that peppered her skin. Ivy knew she shouldn’t say anything, but then she did. It seemed to be an emerging theme for her today.

“What are all those scars from? It looks like you’ve been operated on or something,” Ivy asked with a shudder, once they were each snuggled into their beds.

“I knew you were checkin’ me out,” Harley said with a smirk. Ivy rolled her eyes to keep from blushing.

“Never mind, it’s almost lights out anyway,” Ivy said, flicking the lamp off and settling into her bed.

“I was operated on, but not ‘cause I needed it. Government experiments pay good beer money for kids to experiment on and my folks weren’t about to pass that kinda opportunity up. That’s why I’m so pale, some skin bleaching shit or something. Also, I think I only got one kidney left,” Harley said into the darkness.

“That...can’t be legal??” Ivy said.

“If your folks consent, just about anything is legal,” Harley replied.

“You know, you may be the only person here who is actually better off here than where you were before,” Ivy said, trying to keep her voice even. And here I thought it was horrible that my dad hit me a few times, but holy shit, I didn’t think people actually did stuff like that to their kids unless they were comic book villains! Ivy thought, utterly horrified.

“Yeah, this place ain’t so bad. I got a bed, food, heat, and company. I even get to go to school!” Harley said happily.

Yep, I’m a terrible person. I’ve always had all those things and I totally took them for granted for years. I should be using that shit to help people who actually need it, Ivy thought as she tried to drift off to sleep. I need to protect her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love the image of Harley wearing Ivy's clothes. It's just so cute!

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1 done! Hope everyone keeps reading!


End file.
